


Violet Nightmares

by theteaandbiscuits



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Dave | Technoblade and Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Deities, Discrimination, Gen, Ghost Wilbur Soot, God Complex, Insane Wilbur Soot, Nightmares, Platonic Cuddling, Pre-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Secrets, Swearing, TommyInnit Swears (Video Blogging RPF), Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27775702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theteaandbiscuits/pseuds/theteaandbiscuits
Summary: "You have 31 days,To have all your fun,Then you must cease your games,'Fore ours have begun."Dream should know, better than most people, that a God will always get what they wanted. He should know better than to try and run from a God. He should know that Gods didn't just help people out of the kindness of their hearts, there was always a catch.Dream can't even find the fear for what that catch might entail, be it his friends, fame, power, server or his own mind.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 15
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some info before you read::  
> There are two races of players: Server swapper and Server static. A swapper can swap between servers at will, and is often viewed as superior, and there are elite servers for swappers only. A static can only be moved between servers by Watchers, so they often lose friends and family due to them being moved.  
> The 'Watchers' are a fictional character created in a server named 'Evo' by the Youtuber Grian (he's on Hermitcraft now). If you really want a good understanding of them, you should refer to some of his videos, but don't feel as if you have to. To quickly explain them now, in this universe the Watchers are a formidable deity that moves Server Static Players around, and occasionally interferes with worlds. They try to keep a balance in the universe, punishing and rewarding players. They live to be entertained, and enjoy watching the players (as their name suggests). In Evo, they are a kind of metaphor for the audience, so I've tried to capture that as well as I can.  
> Hope you caught all that! Also, you can find me on Instagram (theteaandbiscuits)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning, where a deal is made and the scene set.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //chapter notes//  
> this is basically a prologue, the full chapter size will average around 2000 words -ish.  
> the title of this work is 'violet nightmares', since violet is the main colour of the watchers.

The cave was shaped in a way that would make one think it was carved out from a huge system of caves by a few dedicated players to create a huge cavern. There was little light, torches glowing a dim orange against the stone. Sat on a ledge was one of the players, Georgenotfound. He was sitting overlooking a conventional wheat farm whilst draped in a green hoodie that looked slightly too big for him. Below him, eating a hunk of fresh bread, was the masked server swapper Dream. The third player was Sapnap, who was pacing about the upper layer of the cavern, one laden with chests and utilities for breadmaking and the such.

“Sit down, Sapnap.” Dream said between bites, “Come and enjoy the food.” George had long since finished his bread, and the only reason Dream still had bread left was since he had a compulsion to savour all the food he had. Maybe he even found eating competitive, he didn’t really know himself.

“I’m waiting for it to cook.” Sapnap replied, squatting down in front of the furnace and glaring at the rising loaf.

They were in their homeworld, the only world in which a player can eat, drink or sleep, to any effect anyways. A homeworld is set by setting one’s spawn in a bed.

It was something about the world. Maybe it was the homely cave they had all worked on together, or maybe it was something much deeper, but nonetheless this was all Dream, George and Sapnap’s homeworld.

Once the bread had cooked, Sapnap set down on the ledge near him and George and silence reigned over the cavern once more.

It was approaching night time, and Dream could tell thanks to the intelligent light system Sapnap had proudly installed while him and George mined out the cave that switched off a string of redstone lamps when night time was near. The torches kept the place safe, but the gloomy light was much more kinder on the tired player’s eyes.

Sapnap pulled himself to standing, declaring it bedtime to the echoes of the cave. Dream stood up and was met with George’s back where he had swung his legs around to sit cross-legged facing Sapnap. It would be criminal to not, he thought, giving Sapnap a devious look.

Wrapping his arms around George, who was still wearing his sweater, he pulled the older player back and over the ledge to land both of them in a heap surrounded by wheat. Sapnap, who was already struggling to keep his laughter in before, burst into giggles as Dream began to feel lightheaded from the almighty wheezing fit he had slipped into again. George rolled off and gave a kind of ‘you’re hopeless’ look, only causing Dream to wheeze harder. 

Once the ridiculousness had worn off, Dream found himself waving goodnight to his friends and heading to his bedroom.

It was carpeted so he could sleep in the dark without worrying about mobs, the walls were lined with item frames with gifts from his fans. Dream was a competitive player, and won a lot of tournaments held in elite server swapper servers. Players from every kind of background would cheer him on in parkour or PVP, team or solo events. 

But his challenges were what made him new.

You can have all the talent in the world, but part of competing in tournaments is entertaining the people. And boy did the people love his challenges. But one thing stopped him from reaching his full potential: reality itself, and the limitations it put on him. He would never be able to do challenges like ‘beating the dragon but we’re always flying’ thanks to reality, and it was really beginning to piss him off. He was basically the most talented and popular player in the universe! Who was to say he couldn’t have his fun? What deity, what god, has the nerve to stop him? He was basically a god!

He opened his eyes to a lucid dream, in a dusty, end-like dimension. A figure, too tall to be a player, appeared in purple robes.

“I am the deity you are looking for.” it said, in a painful voice, “Dream.”

He reached for his axe, finding nothing. Panic ran through his veins momentarily, until he rationalised it, just he did with any fearful emotion.

“You are nothing without weapons.” it half-laughed, “How pitiful.” it took a gliding step forward towards him, robes covering all its body, “Would you still want to fight me?” it smiled, stretching out a pair of magnificent lilac wings that cast a shadow around the cowering player.

“What are you?” he asked calmly, keeping a firm resolve, determined not to let this creature feel the satisfaction of scaring him, “What do you want?”

It smiled again, leaning down towards him, silver hair delicately falling around a pure white mask, with nothing but an engraved symbol and a flower blooming on its surface. It reminded him of his own mask.

“I’m a Watcher. The most powerful race in this universe. You have proved to be rather popular among my accomplices.” it circled around him, inspecting the calm player, “And I’m here to help you.”

Dream picked over the information, almost unsurprised by this revelation, “Why do I need your help?” he asked in a slightly accusatory manner.

“You want to defy reality, huh? Break the rules for your friends, or maybe for the fans.” it said in an oddly sing-song tone. 

Dream kept his cool, still analysing the Watcher’s intentions.

“I should lend you my powers. For a short while, so that you can taste true godliness.” it offered, tone sweet and persuasive.

His resolve dropped for a moment at the mention of true godliness. What would true godliness feel like? How would it feel to control a world, to simply mold it at his own will? His fingertips itched for his axe, and were met with a piece of paper with cursive writing decorating the surface:

_You have 31 days,_

_To have all your fun,_

_Then you must cease your games,_

_‘Fore ours have begun._

It read.

The Watcher was gone, and Dream drifted into consciousness. 

Once he was all alone in a random flat world, Dream decided it was time to test out his new powers.

He stood tall and flexed his fingers in a disturbing fashion. This was going to be fun. Pulling concrete from thin air, he began to build, never running out of concrete. It was like he was… god. 

Some time later, after messing with this world’s rules and testing his power on several mobs, another power made itself prevalent. There was another player in the world, and he could sense their presence. A server swapper. Their intentions were good, but they wanted Dream to leave. He couldn’t allow that, his testing was still underway. 

“Dream?” They called out, walking around his concrete buildings. Now he could see them clearly, it was revealed the other player was his friend Skeppy, “Are you okay?” he called out again.

“I’m fine, but could you just leave now?” He told the player, hoping Skeppy would jump back to whatever server he was on previously. He flinched in response to hearing Dream’s voice, then sighed. Thankfully, Skeppy then disappeared from the flat world, leaving the masked player to his business. 

After about ten or fifteen minutes, a group of players arrived in the world again. Skeppy was with them, but the others though, Dream had no idea who they could be. They were approaching quickly, until he could finally make out George, Sapnap and BadBoyHalo walking towards his buildings. George noticed him first, running out towards him and shouting his name. It took a moment… but Dream finally broke out of his trance, wrapping George in a hug.

“Careful. I’ve been working out in this heat for ages. I probably stink like shit.” he laughed, smiling at the other two players over George’s slightly shorter head, when he realised the player was still wearing his hoodie from when he gave it to him yesterday night, “Why are you still in my hoodie, George?” he poked George’s chest for effect, hearing Sapnap snickering as the accused player panicked a little and took off the hoodie.

“Take it, it stinks, just like you.” he insulted Dream as he passed the hoodie back, pouting. Dream took it, laug hing quietly.

Bad said, “Why were you sniffing the hoodie, George?” Then he started giggling proudly as George turned an amusing shade of pink.

His mind was completely distracted now from his powers, and all the worries he had cultivated over the Watcher. It was nice, moments like this, and he wished that he could freeze them, or bottle them, or something, and just live like that forever. 

But he couldn’t.

Dream had a duel to train for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //chapter notes//  
> next update will come sooner than later hopefully, but in a few weeks time i've got some exams so imma not be as active  
> hmu on insta/twitter if ya reaally need to tell me smth  
> cya!  
> -Joe


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'WASTED DAYS, INBETWEENS  
> SPENT WONDERING  
> WHAT THE FUTURE HAS IN STORE FOR US  
> AND ONLY BLANK PAGES IN OUR PAST'  
> (WASTED DAYS [INBETWEENS] - LARRY PINK THE HUMAN)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I updated that quickly  
> This chapter is a nice calm one, enjoy the interactions of the Dream Team while I set the scene. Same with the next chapter, we're just gonna chill for a while.  
> But don't think it's gonna be like that for long >:)  
> Enjoy!  
> (ps-the chapter summaries are gonna be lyrics from songs from now on)

He glanced at George, who was still getting used to the gravity switching. Dream had managed to change this world's very rules so that the gravity would flip randomly on a timer from one minute to five. It was nauseating the first time you experienced it, but by the tenth time it was bearable and by thirty minutes of this torture you would begin to learn how you should prepare and not end up falling to your death. 

Currently, George was around 15 blocks up the air, shouting out his name and attempting to float towards the nearby pond. The thing was that Dream couldn’t really ‘flip gravity’ per se, but instead he could give every single entity the levitation effect that a shulker would give you if you got attacked. Every world was run on a series of commands and decisions on whether or whether not to do something, Dream had discovered, or more like the Watcher with the flower on their mask had told him that altering the world’s ‘code’ was the easiest way to set up the challenges he wanted to complete.

_ Georgenotfound fell from a high place _

He let out a wheezy laugh and ran out from under the ledge he had set up as a defence against the levitation, scooping up all of his friend’s items and watching as he ran out from the spawn chunks and gently shoved him, “What were you doing? Dream, you just watched me, you were laughing as I fell to my death!” The only reply he could muster was a long wheeze and handing George back all his items. 

It was nice like this, him and George. Sure, he enjoyed doing the manhunts and the roleplaying with all his friends but it was just nice for it to finally be the two of them. When Sapnap gets involved, it often ends up with Sapnap and him teaming up and bullying the other player, in a friendly way obviously, so Dream was sure that George enjoyed these too.

No one had questioned how the challenges worked. At least, as far as he was aware. None of his friends seemed to find it strange how he was suddenly able to do the impossible, though his audience were ecstatic. The response he got was unprecedented and it probably spread through the whole universe in a few days.

“I’m fed up of this stupid challenge.” George told him after around two hours of them trying to get to the Nether, “Can we just get rid of this world and go back to the SMP? We’re never going to complete it.”

He was right, they had lost all their items about three times now and Dream was starting to lose his patience with this stupid challenge.

He tossed his stone axe to the ground and said, “Yeah, let’s leave this challenge alone now. I’m starting to get frustrated with how close we keep getting then dying in lava.” he pulled out a small device that glowed red with Redstone power, “I’ll message Sapnap and tell him to meet in the cave for some lunch.” The small device he then proceeded to type into was called a ‘Redstone Communicator’ or just a comms for short. It was a powerful device run by a group of dedicated engineers on a server known as The Motherboard, where a gigantic Redstone machine somehow sorts through messages and places them flawlessly in the comms of the recipient in just a minute or two. It was a process that Dream would never understand, and honestly didn’t care to understand, but he was grateful nonetheless. It allowed him to meet Sapnap in the cave for lunch after a long few days of trying to do a challenge, only going back to his homeworld for a quick snack to keep him alive.

He arrived in the cavern with George appearing a second afterwards, and with no sign of Sapnap anywhere he decided to break the silence, “That was fun, but damn was it tiring.” he sat down next to the food chest and searched through it for some ingredients.

“Yeah…” George said softly, collapsing behind him, “I don’t want to do that again. I need some sleep, like twelve hours.” he rested his head on the back of his shoulder, just above his shoulder blade, so that his back was pressed up against Dream’s, “Stop moving…” he whined, then the other player tossed some wheat and other farmed goods into George’s lap, “Ooh, thanks Dream~”

The masked player went back to rummaging through the food chests, and carried on until Sapnap appeared by the furnaces, took one look at them and started laughing. He then walked over and pulled a pouty face, “I wanna have Dream cuddles! George gets more Dream cuddles than me, it’s not fair!” he whined, practically crawling into Dream’s lap.

“Oh my gods, both of you get off I’m trying to make lunch!” the masked player shoved Sapnap off and nudged George, who was still completely leant against his back.

Sapnap pulled himself off of the floor dejectedly then started laughing again, “He’s asleep! Gogy was so tired after your little challenge he fell asleep!” 

Dream spun around, obviously waking up the sleeping man, but still finding the fact that George had fallen asleep that quickly hilarious, definitely worthy of a breathless wheezing fit. Truth be told, Dream knew his laugh was strange, but his fans seemed to find it endearing, just one of the things that made him seem less serious as a person. One of the things that a lot of his fans say is how serious he comes across when they first see him, how dedicated to the contests and challenges he is, but once they see him out of a competitive situation it becomes clear how much of an idiot he acts like. 

“What’s so funny?” George said groggily, blinking in the light.

Sapnap giggled again, the only one capable of answering since Dream was lying on the floor laughing, and said, “You fell asleep on Dream!” 

George gave him a strange look, then turned to Dream who had finally calmed down, “What are you doing down there?” he said, still half asleep, and sending Dream into another laughing fit, “It’s really not that funny, not so funny you have to forget how to breath again.” In response to that, Dream let out a choked sound and continued to laugh with Sapnap and George giggling and looking unimpressed respectively. They decided to let him be, walking off to get some food probably.

George was nodding off again, this time into his stew that Sapnap had whipped up from the pre-made meals chest. Dream slapped him on his forearm, then shook his shoulder, laughing quietly as the half asleep player took another spoonful of stew and chewed it.

“When are you gonna start preparing for the duel?” Sapnap asked, taking a huge mouthful of steak. The masked server swapper sat in silent contemplation for a moment, mind wandering back to the ominous message from the strange player.

“I’m constantly preparing. This challenge was technically preparation. My wit is what causes me to win constantly, along with skill, it needs to be practiced and worked on like a muscle.” he shoveled some vegetables out of his bowl and into his mouth.

Sapnap continued to chew his steak as he said, “Do you really need to prepare? He is just a random player, I’ve never even heard of him before.” he swallowed the steak then began to speak more clearly, “Are you really that worried about it?”

Dream sighed. He could understand where Sapnap was coming from, but the player he was up against was a truly formidable enemy. Not an impossible one, though. “He’s good, alright. Wilbur and Tommy said they knew him a while ago, and they said I should probably prepare myself, and I trust them.” 

Sapnap laughed, then took a long drink of water and said, “I don’t trust them. They probably just want to make you worry. Either that or this guy is just some stuck up mediocre pvp-ist who shows off and scares all of the statics.” he picked up a piece of carrot, looked at it then said, “I wouldn’t get my knickers in a twist over this guy. The fans are only excited for you to put a narcissistic prick in his place.”

Dream scooped up all the leftover gravy with his slice of bread, chewing on it as he thought about the duel.

He didn’t know much about this guy at all. It was one of the rules of battles, know your team well and know your enemies better. Saying goodnight to the two players, Dream retreated to his room, feeling comforted by the fanart and gifts that plastered his walls. It made him feel complete, like without success and fame he would simply be nothing. Maybe this fame was a disadvantage from a pvp point of view, since broadcasting most of his fights means that this enemy of his can carefully analyse all of his tactics and methods, while Dream only knows the stage name of this man and folk stories of what he has done.

He hadn’t told anyone else but Wilbur and Tommy that this rival was Technoblade, since the two seemed to know him before he went on a chaotic rampage through several servers, and showed undeterred competitive passion by setting a record on what should have been a swapper elite server.

Technoblade was a server static. That was what Wilbur had said. And yet this guy had set the record for highest win streak on a swapper elite server for one the most famous games. But no one knew him. When he asked Bad and Skeppy, they simply shrugged and carried on talking, and those two played a lot of Bedwars. 

It was frustrating, how mysterious this Technoblade character was, how Wilbur and Tommy seemed to know a lot more than they let on, and then also how ominous the Watcher from his dream had been. It all swirled around his head, keeping him from sleep, until finally the exhaustion of being awake for 50 hours got to him and Dream slipped into a nightmare.

It was cold. He felt so numb, in both body and mind. Something was really off. He could hear voices… was that… the Watcher? Flower? 

“My child. We are glad you have finally come home.” they say. It was definitely the voice of the Flower Watcher. 

He tried to open his heavy eyes, then felt an excruciating pain in his chest that knocked the breath and sense out of him.

Dream woke up, upright in his bed, clammy and full of adrenaline. Sighing, he climbed out of the bed and onto the carpeted floor, since he knew he wasn’t going back to sleep. The adrenaline all came rushing back when he heard the sounds of someone opening and closing chests in the main cavern.

It took a moment for him to calm down and pull his trusty netherite axe from his bedside table, but he began to approach the intruder.

“Dream? Is that you?” he heard Sapnap’s voice say. Dream let out the breath he didn’t realise he had been holding, dropping his defensive stance and wandering over to where Sapnap was squatting down in front of a chest.

He sat down near the other player and said to him, “What are you doing, Sapnap?” 

“I was hungry so I woke up and came to look for a snack.” he said simply, opening the chest and pulling out some bread, “You want some?”

He shook his head, not sure if he could handle eating food at this time of night, “No, I’m fine. I just had a weird dream then heard you clanking around in here.” he wrapped his arms around himself, feeling oddly exposed wearing only his white tee and pyjama shorts.

“Aww, poor Dweam had a little nightmare?” Sapnap cooed, then ripped a hunk of bread off with his teeth like an animal, sitting back and chewing it.

He put his head in his hands, wishing the picture of Flower calling him their child would leave his mind. Cautiously, Sapnap inched over to Dream and put a comforting arm around his shoulders. They stayed like that until the bread had all gone and long after that.

“I had a nightmare.” he admitted, after about fifteen minutes of just silence. Sapnap made a grunt of acknowledgement, then let him speak again, “And it… it scared me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this more chill chapter, and keep an eye out since I'm probably going to post the next chapter either tomorrow or the weekend (:  
> edit: hey so uh I have too much french homework and the next update will probably happen 7 or 8th ish  
> Bye!  
> -Joe


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Well you were born to be an astronaut,  
> and you'll do that or die trying.  
> What a way to live a life.'  
> (Be an Astronaut - Declan McKenna)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im back haha  
> So anyway, sorry for the wait! I had loads of tests n stuff. The holidays should mean more regular updates, but that's assuming I don't catch the winter depression. Well I had fun writing this one, though it took a while to get Wilbur's character right...

It was an active day on his server, with around half of the regular swappers online and all of the statics awake and causing their usual trouble. The two statics he really wanted to see were Wilbur and Tommy, the two leading pioneers of the country known as L’Manburg. It was a few days until the election and Dream knew that things were going to go wrong. 

He was approaching the holy lands, where he had arranged to meet them, since that way he could be sure there was no chance of them attacking anyone. It was unlikely, but a worthy precaution considering the history that the two had, especially Tommy. The war between the Dream Team, who were swappers, and the L’Manburg folk, who were all statics that had appeared on his server, was a brutal one that cost the young boy Tommy a lot. They had secured a tolerance of each other, mostly thanks to the fact that Dream felt a bit guilty for starting the war between statics and swappers. The young boy and his older brother Wilbur had been through a lot, and they deserved to live in peace on this server.

“Hey big D!” said a voice. He knew what that terrible nickname meant.

“Tommy, I told you not to call him that. He’s our ally, and I kinda want to keep it that way.” Wilbur scolded Tommy, grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling him away.

Dream chuckled under his scarf that he wore in public, “Good morning gentlemen.” He whirled his trusty netherite axe round in lazy circles by his side, and said, “I’m sure you know what I want to talk about.”

The brothers exchanged a worried glance, both masking the fear that he was well aware his presence incited. Wilbur wore a solemn expression, one lined with grief and a kind of guilty spite, and Tommy blankly chewed the inside of his cheek.

“Technoblade.” Dream says, a side of him enjoying the slightest flinch that the name caused, “I need to know everything there is to know about him, in order to beat him in our upcoming duel.” The fury on Tommy’s face was rather amusing, he thought, chuckling as the young boy began to shout nonsensical insults strung together with empty threats at him. Silencing him with a single hand, Wilbur stepped up to him. Wilbur was slightly taller than him, so once he got close enough he could effectively intimidate the man who was often referred to as god.

“He will never let you win.” The taller man all but growled at him, though it was not angry like Tommy, it was ice cold and calm like a tundra, and somehow furious at the same time. Dream righted his emotions, calming any fear immediately and smiling under his mask as he pushed Wilbur away, chuckling to himself.

“Whatever you say, Mr POG 2020. I never asked to be threatened, so don’t threaten me.” he allowed his tone to stern up at that last part, hoping to get the message that threats weren’t appreciated by him, “So what I did ask for, which is information, would you care to give it to me?” he swung his axe until it gathered enough momentum to be slung over his shoulder.

Wilbur grabbed his brother’s shoulders and looked him in the eyes, “Don’t say anything. He’s our enemy still, no matter what. As long as he has control, he’s our enemy. I don’t want you to fuck this up with your big mouth now, so just let me figure this out.” 

Before Tommy could protest, the taller man turned to face Dream with a determined expression on his face. Even though Wilbur was taller, the server swapper still had an air of power in this interaction. It was mostly due to his ability to stay calm in most situations, but then also have a controlled fury that was a force to be reckoned with. Enough to be feared, not enough to seem out of control and childish. It was a skill that he had managed to develop after a childhood of losing his temper and being both taunted and feared by all of the kids in school.

“Hey Willbur. I think that Tommy should be able to speak as he wishes. It would be in theme with your whole freedom idea, don’t you agree?” He watches as his brows furrow in annoyance.

“Technoblade is a very good pvp-ist. He is affectionately known as the Blood God. While you enjoy showing off your talent, he enjoys silently showing people how powerful we can be, and how server swappers, or anyone for that matter, shouldn’t be in charge.” Wilbur’s voice is almost robotic, words carefully chosen and information picked over in an effort to control what little Dream would find out about the man.

“I’m sure he fucking hates you! You seem like the kind of bastard he would want to kill!” Tommy screamed, grabbing Will’s arm and dragging himself into the conversation, “Techno never dies! Never, never, he will never die!” the boy affirmed in an almost manic manner.

Wilbur grabbed the back of Tommy’s coat and dragged him out of the holy lands, and once they had crossed out and over the prime path, he shoved the boy onto the grass and began to berate him for his childishness and how he should learn to control his anger. Tommy had probably heard this whole spiel ten times or more, Dream guessed by the bored expression that remained on his face all the time that Wilbur was telling him off.

Dream left the server. It was ridiculous to try and help or get help from those statics. He feared that they were close to being beyond help.

That afternoon, he had enough time for a quick challenge with Sapnap and George, but the duel wouldn’t leave his head. Who was Technoblade? How did Tommy and Wilbur know him? It ruined his dinner, causing him to leave early, with the excuse of ‘I’m tired’. 

He had spent ten days with these new powers, and it was taking its toll on his feeble player body, leaving all his joints aching and a deep exhaustion that settled in one’s bones and dragged them down like sand bags had been tied onto every one of their limbs. Despite his own shortcomings, Dream continued to challenge, train and look after the smp even harder than before, since normality was the one thing he had to cherish right now. The feeling of dread was intoxicating.

Dream had always had a kind of sixth sense. He knew when something was going to go wrong, or when someone was going to try and hurt him. The feeling was first experienced in school, on a then famous server that brought up young server swappers who have great potential, or whatever their stupid schools decided was potential.

He was there because he was strong. Not smart or interesting, just strong. He could wrestle the older kids to the floor if he wanted, but it was often the other way round, with him just giving in to the bullies. Kids are the sweetest kind of people. Their kindness is sickeningly sweet. Dream didn’t want to fight, so he didn’t. So when he got the horrible feeling that someone was going to try and hurt him, like properly hurt him, he had to make his mind up. Run away from his strength and stay afraid of himself forever, or accept his strength and hurt someone.

It was a late Winter evening, and he was working hard in the study centre for the upcoming test season, which meant revising the strengths and weaknesses of nether mobs. The feeling came just as he was trying to recall the health of a Blaze, and it caused young Dream to sit up straight like someone had pulled him up by a string attached to the crown of his head.

Dream turned over in bed, listening to the sounds of voices from his friends. Most likely them worrying about him. He once more delved into the memory, curious to remember.

Young Dream had, at first, done nothing. The feeling only got worse, coming in waves, each one of varying intensity, and although the increase was non linear, the feeling was definitely getting stronger the longer he stayed there. So he grabbed his rucksack and looked around for players, finding none. Young Dream put it up to paranoia. Sitting back down, the next thing he knew was the sickening sound of bone being snapped in half. His combat training kicked in and he sprung from the plastic chair, unable to feel the pain that should have blossomed from his forearm. Young Dream landed on the desk and used his height and speed to land a powerful kick on the unseen opponent. It landed on what he thought was a shoulder, crumpling the player onto the cheap carpet. Before even he could notice it, his knee had rammed into the chest of the enemy and his two hands held the shoulders in place. 

Once young Dream turned on the desk lamp, the stranger was revealed as a boy from his school. 

His mind didn’t let him remember him.

Probably for the best, he thought, burying his face in his pillow. School was a memory now, and that incident was one that would stay with him forever.

The feeling of dread was worse than ever before. Someone wished something upon him that would hurt more than death. Something that would not only hurt him, but everyone he knew.

Dream really wanted to rest, but he didn’t want to fall asleep. Sleep meant nightmares, and he was in for a hell of a nightmare tonight. 

His last conscious thought was ‘I hope Sapnap and George sleep well.’

He felt nothing. He saw nothing. He moved nothing. 

Suddenly, he could feel a white hot pain through his chest, a billion colours and lights blinding him, a taunting voice that ripped through his skull and he was still paralysed. Stuck as the pain, the colours and the laughing and the screaming and the voices all faded into another void.

“My child.”

He woke up, covered in sweat and sick with dread. It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this update is okay! I promise we will get more Dream backstory, and also that mysterious recurring nightmare...  
> Question: How do you guys feel about shipping? Just wanted to know.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Before the truth will set you free, it'll piss you off  
> Before you find a place to be, you're gonna lose the plot  
> Too late to tell you now, one ear and right out the other one  
> 'Cause all you ever do is chant the same old mantra"  
> (MANTRA - Bring Me The Horizon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This chapter is a little shorter than usual, but don't worry, the new frequent updates will hopefully make up for that. I might even post later today!  
> Also Merry Christmas to all that celebrate it :)!  
> And enjoy!

Jshlatt was a curious man. Dream didn’t know him personally, but Wilbur did. For a static, Willbur seemed to know a lot of players.

But when Jshlatt decided to run for president it became clear that him and Wilbur didn’t have the kindest of pasts. 

It was a bright, cold, November morning and most of the members of the smp were gathered under a towering podium, upon which four groups of candidates stood with bold yet nervous energy. All except Jshlatt, who seemed unbothered by the pressure. 

Dream was watching silently and out of view, not wishing to be involved, in case anything went wrong. His amour was heavy on his shoulders, the smp being the only place he frequently wore the netherite reinforced amour. Most of his challenges meant iron, which was a lot lighter than this stuff. But with this amour, he was basically invincible. He had spent days at enchantment tables to get the level of protection that the slabs of metal provided, and it paid off. No one in their right mind would mess with Dream in full netherite.

From what he could see, the ceremony was starting. Wilbur was giving some unimportant speech, holding an enveloped paper in his hands.

“So with all that out of the way, let’s read out the results.” he said, voice shaking a little, though his posture was confident and open.

He listened carefully as percentages were read out in quick succession. Had Tommy and Wilbur really won? Was that what he was dreading? The two were annoying, sure, but together they made a great team to lead L’Manburg, and Dream was fine with the two having their little country.

Oh, so that was what he was dreading. Once out of his head, he realised the situation. Jshlatt had merged votes with one of the other parties. Jshlatt was going to be the leader of L’Manburg.

On a surface level, it didn’t really concern him. He was god, he should be indifferent to such trivial things such as who led L’Manburg. But the other, more empathetic part of him felt for the two men who had built and fought for the country, teaching the swappers that statics could be strong and that the two types of player could get along. It was a powerful message for Dream, and now the two that had led the revolution were being dethroned.

He tuned back into the speech of Jshlatt, “-is to revoke the citizenship of Tommyinnit and Wilbur Soot!” Maybe that was what he was dreading. 

Dream looked on as crossbows turned on Tommy and Wilbur, and the two began to run into the forest, without even a moment to grieve the loss of their country.

He sighed, dropping his armour into his enderchest and jumping back into the cave in his homeworld. It was just about time for dinner, and no one was here. They were probably on the smp, laughing at the luck of Tommy and Wilbur and sympathizing with them as well after a while.

Pulling out his comms, Dream tapped in a few messages. He felt really stressed, the nightmares were getting to him, and his favourite way to take out stress that wasn’t challenges was cooking. So he told Sapnap and George that tea would be ready in about 40 minutes, and to come to the cave in a little while if they wanted some of his cooking.

He was reminded of how much he loved cooking, creating something from raw ingredients. Taking what the world gave him and carefully crafting it into a delicious meal that he could share with other people. 

The first time he learnt to cook a meal was with, believe it or not, Sapnap. The two had been friends for years now, and just one of the skills the other player had shared with Dream was how to cook. Not long after that, he decided that he loved cooking and that he needed to be absolutely amazing at it. Therefore, when he wasn’t dead tired, Dream was the well respected cook and made most meals for the cave dwellers. 

Today he was making something simple, unable to face the long baking times, so he settled on his favourite mushroom stew. They had a mushroom farm in the cave purely for his stews, making them especially fresh and therefore delicious. 

Gently slicing a nice handful of brown mushrooms, Dream hummed some random tune that he had heard played on a jukebox somewhere. It was a lovely distraction, the song and the rhythmic chopping of mushrooms kept his mind occupied. Since mushrooms were very soft, it wouldn’t take too long for them to cook.

He was just finishing dishing up the stew onto three bowls when the

two boisterous server swappers appeared in the cave, laughing and talking.

“Hey chef Dream, what’s on the menu tonight?” George said, sauntering up to the meal that Dream had now placed in the three bowls and was now carrying two over to the other players.

Sapnap wrinkled his nose in mock disgust, “Mushroom stew? Again? Seriously, Dream!” he took a bowl and reflexively took a long, sighing breath then said, “I shouldn’t complain. These stews are always good.”

George hummed an agreement, taking his bowl from Dream and thanking him.

“So how was watching Tommy and Wilbur getting kicked out of their own country by a server swapper?” Dream asked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice as he sat down with his stew.

“Sad.” George said, tone darkening, “Sure it was ironic, funny in a way, but it was really sad. Tommy’s only a kid, he doesn’t need to deal with these kinds of things.”

Dream knew it was true. He could empathise with the young man, since he himself was subjected to combat training similar to what young adult pvp-ers would go through before a tournament, but at the age of seven or eight. Although that was nothing compared to being a war veteran like Tommy. 

He didn’t know anything about Tommy’s past, or any of the statics on his server for that matter, but everyone has their secrets and things they’d rather not have as public information.

“Dream, do you agree?” Sapnap asked him around a mouthful of brown mushrooms.

He sighed, startled slightly out of his thoughts, and said, “I do feel kind of bad for him and Willbur, yeah. Tommy is quite young. I wonder if he’s had any combat training, or if he’s self taught.” He wondered out loud. Truth be told, Dream knew that Tommy was self taught. He could easily tell after fighting him a few times. It was simple for him, since he was a product of the prestigious Server Swapper School for Boys. It was a well known school of combat that taught from age nine to eighteen, and Dream had attended it for nearly the whole time. It challenged pupils in ways that new laws had made illegal, to put it simply. 

“Dream!” George shouted, pushing his arm that had stopped in the process of lifting some stew out of his bowl and towards his mouth, “Why do you keep spacing out?”

“I’m sorry. I was thinking about my childhood, and how similar me and Tommy were.” he said simply, putting the stew into his mouth.

George went silent, awkwardly looking away in a kind of shameful way.

“Oh.” Sapnap said, “I guess? I mean the goddamn combat school is kinda similar to a war.” he laughed. Sapnap had attended three years of the school, from age fourteen to seventeen. His last year and a part of his third year were cut off due to it being shut down, and Dream was in the year above so he only lost a term or so. They had been good friends.

“Like, most of the things we did as teens I can imagine Tommy and his friend Tubbo doing.” Sapnap joked, “Tommy would be you, angry all the time and always causing trouble, and I would be Tubbo, sweet and innocent and trying to calm you down.”

Dream wheezed, “No way! I wasn’t angry then, I had been a perfect student until you corrupted me-”

They seemed to bicker for ages, George offering small comments in between the friendly arguing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I hope you liked that! The combat school was where, in this Au, Sapnap and Dream met. Dream met George when he was doing some amateur redstone stuff and George was a professional. George attended an engineer based school, but also knows alot of theory about (the game). So Gogy taught Dream redstone and Dream taught him combat. Also we get some Tommy POV in the next chapter, and some backround on Sleepy Boys Inc. (and Tubbo).  
> See ya soon!  
> -Joe


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (part two to chpt four)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to mark this as part two to chapter four, since these are both small chapters, but I wanted to separate them.

Tommy pressed his back into the stone wall of the ravine. He had spent hours setting up torches on the walls as a temporary solution to the darkness and mobs.

“Hey Tommy!” chirped Tubbo, “I’m not meant to be here, but I wanted to see you.” he said, sitting down next to him. Tommy just leaned his head on his shoulder, not saying anything.

Finally, he found some words with which to talk to Tubbo, “I hate him. So much.” he gritted his teeth, letting out an angry breath, “It’s just, the swappers have taken so much from me! I don’t get how they can’t just be like you, Toby.” he didn’t move from the other boy’s side.

“I’m sorry. I really wish I could help, but I don’t know how.” he replied, voice thick with guilt and hatred.

Tommy felt the tears drop on to his cheeks before he even realised he was crying, “Think about what the swappers have taken from you. Even Will has been corrupted by that stupid Dream.” he turned to look Tubbo in the eyes, “Have you spoken to Will recently?”

Tubbo nodded solemnly, “He’s lost everything that he worked for. He was the leader of this stuff, and now he’s lost everything. Will was always so happy and he seemed like the most sane out of all of us.” they laughed, “But I guess losing half of your family, your son, the peace you built, the country you made would change a person. And now… he’s lost us.”

Tommy didn’t want to think about Wilbur. Ever since his older brother had started talking to Dream, he had changed. Soon enough he was saying terrifying things about being the bad guys and blowing up festivals. Sure, Tommy hated the server swappers and he loved blowing up stuff, but doing the things that Wilbur was suggesting was too impulsive and violent for him.

He wondered what Dream wanted. For the Statics to be removed from the world by fate? Who were Dream’s enemies? The statics? 

“Sorry. I’ve got to go.” Tubbo said, standing up from the floor next to Tommy, “Shlatt gets mad when I stay away for too long.” he smiled sweetly, sparkling in the dark, damp and dreary ravine. Tommy couldn’t help but smile back, even if it was a bit half hearted. 

“Before you go, tell me, whose side are you on?” Tommy shouted out as Tubbo began to climb up the crude cobblestone staircase.

“Yours, silly!” he beamed, still smiling as he turned around to run up the stairs. The words bounced off the flat ravine walls and reassured Tommy in echoey voices as Tubbo waved goodbye from the top of the cave.

“Bye.” Tommy whispered to the echoes of his friend, as he left to go back to Jshlatt and the other server swappers.

And then, he was left alone. He had lost everything. 

He had lost his brother, then his dad, then his older brother, and now his adopted brother was walking away. He was all that L’Manburg had left, or the ideals that Wilbur had lead with. It was all he looked up to, peace between statics and swappers, and it was never going to happen.

No, he had to get up. Being left vulnerable means that people like Dream can manipulate you, and that was the last thing Tommy needed right now. He had to get up, harvest some potatoes, talk to Wilbur and mine some resources. Maybe doing some chores would get everything out of his mind. 

He started out harvesting potatoes, then mined out a part of the ravine in long strips for diamonds. Next up on the list was talk to Wilbur. He found his older brother sat down in the upstairs area of Pogtopia, crafting.

“Hey Will” he announced, “What are you doing?”

Not turning away from the crafting table, Wilbur answered, “TNT” his voice was calm and emotion free.

Tommy sighed, trying to calm himself down. He needed to control his anger. “Why do you think this is going to solve anything?”

Without even stopping his crafting, Wilbur answered again, voice just as serene as before, “I don’t.”

“Why the fuck are you doing it then? Because Dream told you to? He’s our enemy, as long as he has power over us, that’s what you told me. So why are you fucking bowing down to his egoistic server swapper ass?” he shouted, Wilbur not flinching nor stopping his crafting.

Once Tommy had stopped screaming, Wilbur calmly put down the TNT, sand and gunpowder; stood up to face him and said, “Dream will always have power over us. I’m giving up being the good guy.” his calm facade began to crumble, “I know what I have to do. I’ve fucked over so many people and so many people have fucked me over, I’m broken and insane, I admit. So I know what is best for the world. I’m getting rid of everything I did, and in turn myself.” he paused, meeting Tommy’s eyes with his own, dark eyes and said, “I need you to forget the foolish ideals I built into your head. There will never be peace.”

Tears began to stream down his face once more, and he felt the anger build up again, “Wilbur, you have so much to live for! You built so much, you gave hope to so many server statics, you have to carry on!”

“I gave my all,” the older brother chuckled sadly, “And now I have nothing left.” He looked so tired, so worn. So much older than he was. 

Tommy understood now. 

“Would it make you…” he gripped his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palms, “Would it make you happy if I helped you?”

Wilbur smiled tiredly, “Thank you Tommy. It means alot.” he turned to his crafting table and started crafting again, “But you don’t need to be the bad guy.” Wilbur laughed quietly, “You’re the hero.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Isabelle for giving me the idea that Tubbo would be a server swapper! <333


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I used to pride myself on honesty and being a good friend,  
> But now I hate the thought of conversation and having to pretend,  
> That I'm interesting in what advice you feel the need to offer."  
> (Reinvent - Phoebe Green)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks! This is a nice and angsty chapter. The calm is over and now I get to torture people.  
> It will only get worse.  
> >:D  
> ::EDIT:: I have put a link to some art in there now :D

Dream stopped his supervision of the Manburg folk as they were preparing for the festival to visit the server static known as Wilbur. Ever since being exiled, he had convinced Wilbur that blowing up the festival was the best thing he could do for this world. It was rather unnerving to see the once respectable and passionate man being reduced to whatever he was now. His eyes had gone from a calm and patient brown, young and full of glistening light, to inset and tired, full of darkness, hate and apathy. His face had become sunken and gaunt, his voice had gone from inspiring, musical and invigorating to just tired. He looked like he had aged a few decades in a fortnight.

Tommy hadn’t gone completely, but his energy had dipped as anyone would.

“Good morning Wilbur.” Dream announced from under his scarf, strolling up to the man who was collapsed in a heap of sand, gunpowder and some TNT, “Might want to be a little more careful with those.” he warned, gently taking the TNT and placing it into a chest. There was almost a stack there, impressive. 

“Fuck off.” Wilbur mumbled without moving.

Dream laughed, “Good to see you too!” he picked up Will by the collar of his ragged coat, “We’ve got some talking to do.” he placed the wretched looking man on top of a chest.

Wilbur rubbed his face with one of his bony hands, whining in protest.

Sitting down, Dream began to list off all the things that he wanted in return, “I would like you and your brother to be gone, firstly. I don’t hate you or Tommy, I just don’t need you destroying the hierarchy of the server. It’s not about you being statics, it’s about you being a problem.” He smiled under his mask as Wilbur grimaced, “Next, I need you to get Schlatt out of here. I don’t care, he needs to go.”

“What are your motives?” Wilbur rasped from his hunched form.

Dream smiled again, “Power over everything.” he laughed gently, “I want to be a god.”

The husk of a man let out a pathetic laugh, fury evident even in his dark eyes, “I really hope Techno kills you.” he said, clasping his hands into little fists making his knobbly knuckles go white. He may seem weak, faded and on the edge of death, but Wilbur was made of stern stuff. He would never truly change, and he was more stubborn than he realised.

“That brings me onto my next demand. Tell me how you know that man. Because you and Tommy know more than anyone else that I’ve mentioned his name to, and it seems that you knew him personally from somewhere.” Dream watched as the man before him closed off and curled up, trying to become as small as possible, “I will not be beaten by some meagre static. I am almost a god.” he announced, “In fact, I’m pretty sure I am a god.” he chuckled as he turned away from Wilbur, leaving only four stacks of TNT in the chest. Suddenly, the same searing pain that he had felt in the nightmare speared through his chest, his knees buckling from the shock. Unable to change servers for some reason, Dream was stuck in the tiny cave with Wilbur as he tried to stop the pain. Choking on his knees, Dream scratched and clawed at his chestplate of netherite, letting out a broken scream. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Wilbur shouted, backing up against the wall in fear, “Are you being possessed?”

“Lea… eave…” he stuttered, “Get out… now…” Dream spat, feeling the phantom pain throb through his chest and his powers tingling at his fingertips.

Tommy stood dumbstruck in the doorway of the cavern, unable to find any words at all.

“Is he…” Tommy muttered, “Dying?”

He was dying. This was it, proper death. No respawn. He cursed the Watchers and their stupid games, hearing Flower’s voice from the nightmare taunting him. The world would probably be better without him, Dream thought, as his vision faded away leaving only the concerned and scared voices of Wilbur and Tommy to remind him of his life.

Immediately, the pain ceased. His vision returned through his mask, framing Tommy and Wilbur standing over him. Instinctually, he scurried back, feeling like a helpless kid all over again.

“Dream? Are you back?” Wilbur said, voice scarily kind and caring, “You screamed out something… concerning.”

He was shocked, “Why are you being so nice to me?” voice still shaking from the fear that the Watchers struck into his soul.

Tommy watched dumbly as Wilbur bent down on one knee and smiled kindly at Dream, “This is all acting, isn’t it? I’ve seen you with your friends, you’re a good person really. This is just a bit of fun to you. A game.” There was spite and disdain spiking his tongue, but his stance and smile remained kind and calm, “Sure, I hate you sometimes, but I know that you don’t really want this… chaos.”

The room was silent. Dream didn’t understand, what was the madman doing? What had just happened?

“Sure, you’re a bit of a dick, but I heard what you shouted out. We are so similar, Dream. Even if neither of us want to admit it.” Wilbur laughed sadly, looking down at him backed up against the wall like some terrified cornered animal, “The world would be so much better without us.”

He felt the ability to swap returned to him by the bastard Watchers as soon as Wilbur finished speaking, blinking out of his miserable existence in the smp. 

Would the world be better off without him?

The cavern walls of his homeworld didn’t answer.

He opened his eyes. He didn’t know he had closed them. Dream was in the place where he met the Flower Watcher, collapsed on the endstone, looking up into the grand obelisk that sat on the adjacent island. Chorus plants framed the winged figure that towered over him.

“Dream.” Flower said, their deep purple robes swaying as they stood in front of him, “That was me.” They smiled sweetly, edges of their mouth reaching the vines that trailed across their left side face. In all truthfulness, Flower was actually rather pretty. They had long ears full of piercings that pointed up from the sides of their mask. The mask had a violet blooming where their left eye would have been, and had mid-length silvery hair streaking down their face, with two long locks of hair reaching their nose. 

[Art of Flower! (without their mask)](https://www.instagram.com/p/CJG378zMMCC/?igshid=1str2el1n7iol)

No matter how pretty Flower was, they were a god that Dream had to submit to. And he was sick of it.

“Why the fuck did you do that?” he asked, dangerously furious.

The Watcher laughed. They laughed. Then Flower’s face morphed into something opposite of smirking and sweet; rage. The thing that Dream really didn’t need was to provoke the god.

“You really think, that just because you had the luck of meeting me, that it makes you a god?” Flower took a step towards the still sitting player, “You will never, truly, be a god. You don’t even understand what it means to be a god, what it means to keep balance in the universe, and you haven’t even experienced a miniscule fraction of the pain that comes with being a god.” he felt them pick him up with some other force than their two hands, then they spat, “A god is nothing like you imagine it to be. It is not power over everything. A god is a being that lives only to serve the universe. We are slaves to you and you are slaves to us.” 

Dream woke up. He was still sat in his homeworld, cornered by tall walls of stone and surrounded by chests and furnaces. Stumbling, he left the main room and clumsily entered his bedroom. 

The fanart was intoxicating. It kept reminding him of Flower. 

He took off his mask, feeling trapped and slightly panicked. Taking off his mask once he was alone reassured his brain that he was safe, since Dream would only take off his mask if he knew that there was no risk.

Right now, the biggest risk was himself.

Curling up on his bed, Dream felt his breath become slowly more calm. The room felt less like it was closing in on him and the dizziness went away, and he could finally focus on what had just happened. 

Reapplying his mask and grabbing his axe, Dream used his powers to teleport to the top balcony of the cavern. It overlooked everything, and held utilities like the enchanting room and a few select farms. Dream liked it up here because he could see everything and no one really came up here too often. It was his own little recluse, where he could sit in open space and feel safe.

The only reason he brought his axe was paranoia. Without he felt as if something or someone would jump him at any time, so it was a kind of safety blanket.

Now he could think over all that had just happened. 

It started when he just went to visit Wilbur and try to get more information on Technoblade. He had stated that he was a god, then the Flower Watcher had caused him to feel great pain and trapped in the SMP. He had screamed out something akin to, ‘The world would be better off without me,’ then come around. Wilbur had helped him calm down for some reason, apparently because the SMP was a game to him.

Maybe it was. But was that a bad thing? Games were fun, for the players anyway. The characters had no control though, that wasn’t perfect. Dream wasn’t a character in a game like Wilbur and Tommy were. 

Dream focussed back on what had happened next. He had left, then he had fallen asleep due to the Flower Watcher. They had gotten angry and told him that he would never become a god like he wanted, that a god was different to what he imagined it to be.

Dream took a moment to ponder on what the role of Watchers was. They were the Watchers, so surely they lived to watch the players, not to interfere. It was truly baffling. A thought floated to the front of his mind: what if the Watchers were the ones who moved statics between servers? If so, why?

His questions were cut short by his powers sensing a certain server swapper that had recently appeared in the cave. One that didn’t visit too often, but he was a welcome visitor.

“Hey Bad.” Dream called out to the other player. He flinched in response, obviously not expecting Dream to notice him. Maybe he even thought he was alone.

“Oh hey Dream!” he exclaimed, looking around the cavern “Where are you?”

Dream jumped down, landing neatly on his bent knees, “Hi.”

“Oh my goodness!” Badboyhalo shouted, “Dream! You scared me!” he put his hands on his knees, the shock almost causing him to faint. His normal black and red robes that he is often seen in were replaced with his casual clothing - a black and red hoodie and some comfy looking dark grey tracksuit bottoms. He had his glasses perched on his nose as per usual and his brown hair was curled up into tight little rolls that spilled across his head without the hood to contain them.

“Sorry about that!” Dream laughed breathlessly, “I was just up on the balcony.” he twirled his axe by his side, a habit of his that made him feel safe, though Bad didn’t look very sure about it.

The other player winced as the axe swung slightly higher, “Could you please put that thing down? It’s making me nervous.” he wrung his hands together. Dream abided, resting the axe against a wall nearby.

Once his axe was out of the way, he asked, “So any particular reason you’re wandering around here on a dreary November morning?” 

“It’s midday, Dream.” Bad drawled, sitting down on the ledge that separated the wheat farm and the furnace array. Dream joined him, glad to talk to someone after his little incident.

“Never mind that.”

Bad sighed, looking over to him and scrutinising his every move, “I wanted to see if you were okay.” 

Oh. That would be a no, if Dream was an honest man, “I’m good, just came from the SMP. Me and Will had a little talk, so if I seem a little off it’s probably because of that idiot.” he tried to divert Bad’s attention from him to Wilbur by calling the server static an idiot.

“Wilbur is not an idiot. He is a nice, kind and very selfless man.” Bad pouted, “You on the other hand…” he shifted, fidgeting and wringing his hands. He was clearly uncomfortable with how Dream treated the statics, it was expected.

“I’m sorry Bad.” he said, without even noticing it, “I think I just want to be in control, since I’ve spent the whole of my life before this being controlled.” he admitted, the words leaving his mouth without him even thinking them up. His voice was as calm as it had ever been, and he felt unaffected by the confession.

Bad, in return, just hugged him across his side, awkwardly wrapping his arms around his shoulders and thanking him for something or other. 

He had never felt so completely numb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was that okay? Please leave a comment, the amount of comments directly correlate to how much angst I write.  
> Also, please please go listen to all the songs that I put in the chapter summaries. I listen to music 25/7 so yeah.  
> Question: Fellow writers, do you listen to music when you write or no? I listen to music but only very quietly. Please feel free to drop a comment to tell me, I will reply!!! (I often listen to metal cuz I find that I focus easier when I'm listening to metal *shrugs*)  
> I love you all very much,  
> Bye!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness. Plot will happen next chapter, be afraid. This one is a bit heavy, we see some of how Wibur's slow decline into madness affects his relationship with Tommy.   
> Remember - this is fiction. This is purely for leisure and as a coping mechanism. I would never even wish these things upon anyone in real life.

He woke from another nightmare filled sleep, the only thing keeping him unconscious being the drag of exhaustion. Dream knew what day it was today. It was the last day that he had his powers given to him by the Flower Watcher, and although at the beginning he thought that the last day would be the greatest, Dream knew that he wasn’t going to be doing very much else other than sleeping and visiting the SMP. 

George and Sapnap had left already, leaving the masked server swapper alone with only his thoughts. His friends had probably noticed the shift in Dream’s behaviour, but his mind concluded that they cared too little about him to mention it. 

Sighing, Dream buried his head into his pillow, wishing that he could just stop breathing and forget it all. 

The fanart made him sick. It was suffocating, none of them cared about him truly. They were all like the Watchers: selfish and uncaring. Even the kind messages that asked if he was okay were only feigned sympathy poorly masking the want for more entertainment. He told them he was training for the duel. 

He would fight Technoblade in two weeks.

Finally getting out of bed, he guessed he should probably check up on the SMP, so he grabbed his hoodie, scarf and axe then swapped his mask around from the fabric one he used in bed to the wooden one he used during the day. 

Once he was ready, the masked player made the jump to his world.

He spawned in his last location - the Pogtopia cave - from when  _ that  _ had happened. It was oddly quiet in the cavern today, and Dream decided to explore the little home that Wilbur had made for himself and his problematic brother. 

Once he was down the twisting stone staircase, he was met with a breath of warm, humid air and a huge, deep scar in the earth that had rickety bridges and paths lining its vertical walls. Though only faintly, the sound of two young men arguing echoed around the cavern. 

There was a large smack sound, then it all went silent. From the direction of the sound came Wilbur, looking beyond furious, and covered in grime and a smattering of blood. He held an iron shovel, then tossed it on top of a nearby chest and slipped onto his knees.

Maybe this wasn’t the best time to talk with the man, but Dream couldn’t honestly care less. 

“Good afternoon, young man.” Dream called out from one of the ravine’s many wooden bridges.

Wilbur flinched and looked around, before his dull eyes fixed on him, “Dream.” he smiled, unhinged, “You owe me a little explanation.” 

“No, I don’t.” he replied, “I owe you nothing.”

Wilbur smiled even wider, tossing his head back to look directly up at him, “How would you like the entire SMP knowing about your little breakdown you had in my front doorway?” Oh, so that was what he was talking about. 

Dream jumped down from the bridge, his armor taking the majority of the damage, though his knees felt a little wobbly as he stood again, “It’s really none of your business.” 

“I’m your  _ friend,  _ Dream. Of course it’s my problem.” Wil got up from his knees and to his full staggering height, towering over Dream, “So why won’t you just tell me?” His voice was sweet, but devoid of all kindness. 

Then he got an idea, “What if I tell you why I was crying and screaming, and you tell me something about Technoblade?” he smiled behind his scarf, proud of his solution to this little situation.

Wilbur hummed, pacing the small floorspace, then turned to him to say something when Tommy came bounding through and out of the darkness at the edges of the ravine. He was dressed shabbily and without his usual white and red tee, instead in a mix of handmade leather clothes and old L’manburg uniform. It was, akin to Wilbur, covered in dirt and blood. 

He looked terrified, his stance resembling that of a hunted animal, and fresh bruises covering his exposed skin. It was haunting, and Dream grimaced under the mask.

Tommy froze when he saw Wilbur and Dream together, his fear morphing into hate and similar emotions, though grief and sadness conflicted and contoured the rage.

“Tommy. Hi.” Dream said calmly. Wilbur grabbed the shovel from atop the chest, watching Tommy as he flinched and stepped back from his brother. 

“You have to get Techno! He’s the only one who can-” Tommy was cut off by a blunt swipe of a shovel to his side. He doubled over and began to choke out sobs.

Wilbur calmly bent down and softly held Tommy’s jawline, forcing him to look into his dull, brown eyes, “No one is going to help you. I’m the only one you can rely on.” 

The blonde boy let out a gasp of breath, hiccuping and letting the tears roll down his cheeks and onto Wil’s hands.

“Niki, Eret, Fundy, Schlatt…” Wilbur leaned in, placing his head next to Tommy’s to whisper into his ear, “Tubbo…” he pulled back again to look him in the eyes, “...none of them want to help you. I’m your brother, we’re bound by blood. I’d never abandon you like the rest of them did. They weren’t even your real brothers, and that’s why they left you. I’m the only one who cares.” 

Dream watched on, feeling like he was slightly intruding the two brothers. He couldn’t help but feel disturbed by the proof of Wilbur’s madness. Somehow the apathy looked better on him than the unhinged smile.

“Are you quite finished?” he asked, feigning indifference. 

Wilbur watched as his brother scampered away into the darkness once more, “Yep. Do you want to talk now?”

And so they moved to a slightly higher up balcony of the ravine, a place where they could sit and talk. Wilbur put a music disk into the jukebox that sat in the middle of the plateau, a seemingly worthless one, as far as he could tell.

“I’ll go first.” Wilbur announced from his cobblestone perch, “Technoblade is known by the players that reside on the server ‘Hypixel’. Speak to them about Technoblade.” Wilbur spat the name, resent lining his voice. Dream wondered why.

“Now you.” Wilbur smiled, “And if you don’t tell me what you promised, the rumours will spread, and all the respect you built around yourself will fall.”

Wilbur, unfortunately, had him by the throat. The only possible way out that Dream could see was killing the madman. But that would land him in a hell of a lot of trouble, “Okay, I’ll tell you.” he gathered his words, ready to formulate a way to shield the Watcher’s interference from Wil, “It was from a nightmare I had. I don’t really understand it, but I know that in it I feel this blinding pain in my chest. I thought that I was going to die.” 

Wilbur went silent, letting out a long sigh, then a breathy chuckle. He got up and gestured to the stairs, “Later, smiley.”

Dream turned to leave, then stopped. His mind wouldn’t stop worrying about young Tommy.

“Before I leave, I need to speak to your brother.” he grabbed a pearl and disappeared into the darkness of the cavern before Wilbur could stop him.

He found Tommy curled up in what he presumed was his bedroom, sobbing.

“Hey Tommy. Before I leave, I need to tell you something.” Dream bent down to the boy’s height, meeting him face to face. 

Tommy looked away, “I don’t need your sympathy, green man.”

He laughed at the nickname, then placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, and looked him in the eyes, “I want to try and make things better for you. You don’t deserve all of this suffering.” Dream left him with a spare set of netherite armor and tools, hoping that they wouldn’t be snatched from him by Wilbur the moment the man noticed them.

He went back to his homeworld, hoping the good deed would keep his mind from drifting into self hatred even deeper.

Unfortunately, it did nothing. The cavern was empty like always and Dream was alone like usual. 

Feeling slightly hungry, he gnawed on an apple that had been laying in one of the chests for as long as he could remember. It did nothing to soothe the ache of coldness that he felt twisting his insides, so Dream decided to fall into another restless sleep. Dreams of what the server Hypixel would be like and flashes of Tommy bruised and defeated decorated his sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Go get a drink of water or something after that.


	8. Time is Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Come inside, twist the knife like it's something to do,  
> I'm a voluntary victim,  
> Watch your colonial tongue,  
> I watch you tighten the noose,  
> I'm burning in your mad IQ."  
> (MAD IQS - IDONTKNOWHOWBUTTHEYFOUNDME)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good afternoon! I have plot for you >:D  
> This one actually has something happen in it, gasp.  
> There is some fluffy cuddles to balance out the impending doom, but if you want pure fluff, head over to my oneshot and requests work and check out some of those! (shameless self advertising, ik)  
> Anyway, enjoy this pain. I hope to update a little more often now, since I'm getting back into this story again!!

For once, his sleep was left free of the interference of godly races, and Dream woke up to the sounds of George and Sapnap chatting sleepily over breakfast. He felt freed, his limbs felt weightless and Dream was ready to train for the duel. Today, he thought as he pulled on some clothes, he would visit the server Hypixel and find out more about the mysterious Technoblade.

“Morning!” he called cheerfully as he strolled into the main area of the cavern, met with the sight of Sapnap chewing on some toast and George lathering a ridiculous amount of preserve on his toast.

“Dream!” George called out, dropping the toast, jar and knife, then ran towards Dream and pretty much tackled the taller man. Surprised, Dream almost toppled over and onto the stone floor, but his height and battle instincts kept him upright as George pulled him into a long hug.

The shorter man pulled away and looked into his eyes, “You’re alive!” George laughed lightheartedly, taking a small step back. Dream’s brain was short circuiting, they thought he was dead? No, that was a joke, they were just joking. He took a moment to take in George’s glad smile, and Sapnap’s giggling around a mouthful of toast, and he realised how much he missed this.

“Man, I missed you guys.” he admitted out loud, getting a now toast-free ‘aw’ from Sapnap, who had gotten up and padded over to Dream as well.

Once they got out of the long group hug, Sapnap got to making Dream some toast, cooking over the fire that was raging in the small fireplace that lay flat against one of the cavern walls, toasting just how he knew Dream liked it. Whilst Sapnap did that, Dream had a long chat with George about what had happened without him. Dream found himself able to relax, his thoughts, instead of racing around at a frustrating speed, floating in and out of his head, allowing him to grab one and explore them as he pleased. It was freeing, being able to think, and talk with his friends. The food was good, better than the scraps he had been scavenging for the last week or so. 

“And then Sapnap appears out of literally nowhere, with like amazing gear, and just wipes out me and Bad!” George explained to him, gesturing animatedly as he retold the fun games they’d been playing a few days ago, “It was super dumb and unfair. Antfrost literally spent hours getting stuff while you fought us, like your slave-” Dream zoned out, not caring much for what exactly happened, but still enjoying the excited storytelling of George, though it had descended into moaning at this point. Sapnap had sat down next to them, chewing on yet another slice of toast, laughing at George’s misfortune. 

Eventually, banter faded into comfortable silence and cuddles. This was yet another thing that Dream had missed - cuddles with his friends. Sapnap had done his usual trick of literally crawling into Dream’s lap like a strange, human cat. George had opted for the other option of leaning gently on Dream’s side, causing Sapnap to stretch over and manage to lay on both of their laps at the same time. They stayed like that for a while, George gently combing through Sapnap’s hair and Dream nestling his head onto George’s shoulder. But things needed to be done, and the trio were itching to get moving, especially Dream. Once released from Sapnap, Dream hopped onto the SMP to check up on things before he went to Hypixel.

The morning was bright and warm on the SMP today, but the foreboding feeling still hung in the air like the fog that hung in the low lying fields. Schlatt had announced a festival, one of democracy and other stuff that Dream couldn’t find the energy to care about. 

He was only checking up on the server briefly, making sure that no one had blown anything to smithereens, disappointed to find that there was nothing going on. It would’ve been fun to watch some chaos, Dream was in a good mood and he wanted to have some fun. Maybe he’d save that for his next chore - visiting the server Wilbur had mentioned to him. 

Visiting a new server was a bother, and Dream tended to stick with those that he knew, until the Watcher had shown him a neat trick using his powers. He would leave the world he was in and end up in some kind of hub where all of the servers in the universe were displayed in neat little lines so that Dream could navigate easily. In the hub, there was nothing but void. The experience was terrifying at first, but after a few visits Dream found the stifling silence of the sensory deprivation chamber bearable. 

Once inside, he felt unusually ill and tired. Ignoring it, he scoured through the worlds for one named Hypixel, finding it almost immediately and jumping over, arriving at a bustling portal full of high-tech advertisements for even crazier looking games. How had he not been here before?

Suddenly, a wave of nausea and fatigue washed over him, causing him to stumble slightly into some other guy dressed in gaudy, impractical clothes. The guy also had weird dyed hair, it was bright green, and some strange markings over his face.

“Watch where you-” he began, whipping around to face him, “Holy shit! Are you Dream?” he cried even louder, and Dream almost fainted onto this poor person, instead side-stepping them and stumbling off, eager to get away.

Alas, it was far too late. There were several people who were suddenly drawn to him, asking for autographs and such. It was bothersome, especially with this weird illness that seemed to come from travelling here. Dream had never gotten travel sickness before, only the usual slight disorientation when one switches servers.

Why would he be feeling ill? Dream wracked his brain, desperate for answers and to get away from all these people. 

Oh.

Oh no.

Yesterday was his last day with his powers.

He used his powers to travel to Hypixel.

Dream felt even more ill, instinctually hopping over to his homeworld, only feeling more and more sick. Once out of sight, he dropped to his hands and knees, feeling the world spin. The burning sensation in his chest from the nightmare began, searing through the nausea like a blade through flesh. He choked up spit and bile onto the floor, emptiness weighing him down.

The pain got worse, quicker, stronger than the time in the cave with Wilbur. It was intoxicating, worse than anything he’d ever felt. This wasn’t bones breaking, this wasn’t organs being torn to shreds, this wasn’t death like he knew it, this was end.

Suddenly, everything went black.

“My child.” Flower appeared in all their gowns and glory, “We are so glad you have finally come home.”

Dream didn’t feel fear. Not even the slightest bit of instinctual terror, just cold. He wanted to feel afraid, to be tearing at his hair. Fear would be comforting, fear would be familiar.

He just felt cold.

Cold and full of nothing.

“Welcome.” they said, voice ethereal and wings spreading gloriously behind them.

The vision faded, replaced with sickeningly familiar stone walls. The horrifying nothingness settled in Dream’s stomach, chilling him from the inside out and suffocating any emotions he dared to feel.

Shakily, he stood up and hobbled over to his room, checking his comms in the journey. There were photos of him looking pale and terrified in the lobby of Hypixel plastered over the news sites, and the only thing Dream could feel was rage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I do some backstory/prequel stuff to this sometime? Cuz I've got backstory for Phil and the whole of SBI planned out, and I dunno how relevant it will be to the main story, but I love it nonetheless.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> Feel free leave a kudos or a comment, tell me what I did wrong or what you wanna see from this fic, I'm super open to suggestions/criticism. I will also answer any questions you have about this thing! I think I'm a friendly person...  
> (:  
> -Joe


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